A Little Bit of Nothing
by TheShippyQueen
Summary: Matthew finds himself enchanted by Gwen. A challenge fic.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This was a writing challenge set over on the Highclere forum. My task was to write a Gwen/Matthew flirtiness type story. So….here it is! :D_

**A Little Bit of Nothing.**

"Songbird"

Matthew Crawley rested his head against the back of the great sofa that adorned the grand library of Downton Abbey, and sighed. This whole business was a complete mess and Matthew couldn't help but feel a small amount of guilt at how his arrival seemed to be upsetting everything and everyone.

It wasn't what he wanted – he was a middle-class solicitor trying to make his own way, his own mark on the world. He had no room in his life for an earldom.

It wasn't what his mother wanted – she saw the whole thing as ludicrous, the whole idea that an unknown cousin should leave everything to a man he barely knew.

It certainly wasn't what she wanted – she made it clear, crystal clear, that he was repugnant to her, that he was a sea-monster in middle-class clothing.

He did not belong and he couldn't help but agree with her on that.

The only person who believed in him was Lord Grantham. A man he barely knew and yet trusted him enough to not fight the entail. But no matter how much he may trust him, he would not let him change him -he must stay true to himself.

He remained seated; gazing up at the ornately sculpted ceiling, admiring the rose detail and elegant designs…he turned his head slightly and gazed at the rows of portraits depicting ancestors and former earls. Years of pride and honour, staring down at him, mocking him for the imposter he was.

The sound of the door clicking open didn't disturb him at first; it was only when he heard the soft melodic tones of a female voice singing softly to herself that he turned his head to see who had entered.

It was one of the maids (he was ashamed to admit he had no idea which one it was) and she had clearly not seen he was in the room. She moved towards the bookcase and began to dust at the shelves, all the time singing in a soft, yet slightly enchanting tone.

He remained as still as he dared, listening and admiring her sweet voice. She couldn't be very old and as he watched her he was sure he'd seen her about the house before. Her red, silky hair seemed to glow in the low light of the library as she lifted down one book and carefully dusted the cover.

As the song reached the end, Matthew was overcome with the urge to join in, the young maid's hauntingly beautiful voice, lulling him into a dream-like state and against all his better judgements he sang out in a deep tenor tone, "_You know you made me love you…."_

The young maid leapt around, dropping the book in her hands in fright. Her pale face flushed in shock and embarrassment at seeing Mr Crawley sitting in the library.

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir," she gasped, bobbing a little curtsey.

Matthew got to his feet quickly and winced slightly at the panicked look on the young woman's face. Since he had been named as heir to Downton, he couldn't walk anywhere without someone curtseying or doffing their cap in fright. He rather longed for those simpler days of Manchester, where nobody cared who you were.

He held up a hand to try and steady the girl's nerves, "No, no, it was my fault. I shouldn't have scared you like that."

The young woman dropped her eyes to the floor and remained still and demure, just like she had been trained to do.

"You didn't scare me."

Matthew smiled lightly and moved cautiously towards the bookcase. The young maid remained rooted to the spot, her eyes cast down and from the red flush spreading across her neck she was obviously hoping he would leave her be. Matthew bent down to retrieve the book; he could almost hear the collective hiss of disapproval from the watching ancestors, but be damned with them!

"You have a lovely singing voice…..?" his own voice trailed away, encouraging the girl to tell him her name.

"Gwen, sir."

"….Gwen. I don't think I've ever heard such a lovely voice as yours before and that is a beautiful song you were singing."

Gwen's eyes flickered up to his for the briefest of moments, "Thank you, sir. It's my favourite."

"It's one of mine too," he smiled, trying hard to catch her eye once more. There was something quite enrapturing about this young woman with her flame red hair and shy demeanour. When she looked up at him again, he noticed how her eyes seemed to sparkle and there was real depth to her look. And he couldn't deny that the flush of pink across her milky white cheeks, really was endearing.

"I ought ter put tha' back," Gwen said, her voice low and tentative. She nodded towards the book he was holding and he suddenly realised he had been gazing at her.

Shaking himself from the reverie he gave a soft, "Oh," and handed it to her with a smile. She managed to return it, her eyes flicking rapidly between him and the book, the colour rising further in her cheeks.

She turned awkwardly and replaced it on the shelf, all the time he watched her and for a brief, mad moment he wondered if he should ask her to sing again. But, as he battled internally with such thoughts, Gwen turned around again and offered him another embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry fer disturbin' yer," she murmured, bobbed another curtsey and began to retreat from the room.

"You do not disturb me. Far from it." Matthew answered and before he could say anything more, Gwen scuttled as fast as she could from the room.

Matthew sighed to himself and began to walk back towards the sofa, the song Gwen had been singing still lingering in his mind. She was a pretty thing, no denying that, and she so unlike any other woman he had met but then again, she was a maid and he her potential future employer. She'd hardly be arguing with him over Greek mythology like some women he knew.

Settling onto the sofa, he pushed away any thoughts of heirs and entails and for a few moments (until Lord Grantham returned) he amused himself with a song.

xXx

As the door clicked shut behind her, Gwen exhaled in relief. She'd had no idea that Mr Crawley was in the library or else she'd never have dreamed of going in there and she'd certainly not have been singing!

She let her head fall backwards and she groaned inwardly with embarrassment, of all the things she could have been doing, she had to be singing! She never sang…well not often. She'd occasionally sing softly when she was alone but those times in such a house were rare and she'd never been one to exhibit herself.

Her mum always said she had a sweet tone, that when she applied herself she could sing very well indeed, but Gwen had never believed her, mum's were meant to say that even if it weren't true.

As Gwen's feet began to move her thoughts moved towards her encounter with the heir, Mr Crawley. She'd never really thought much about him before, she'd observed him on the rare occasions she had been allowed to be in his presence, such as the night he was first introduced.

She had to admit he seemed nice, she couldn't imagine Lord Grantham speaking to her like Mr Crawley just had. And he'd paid her a compliment. No man had ever done that before.

Walking down the servant's staircase, she let her mind wander and for a few brief moments she thought of nothing but Mr Crawley, his blonde hair and those deep, deep blue eyes…..

_A/N: The song Gwen was singing is called "You made me love you (But I didn't want to do it)" by James Monaco and Joseph McCarthy, a popular song in 1913. I also intended this to be a one-shot but I think there are a few chapters in this, so I think I'll indulge myself!_

_And…just be thankful I'm not writing Anna/Robert or Gwen/Branson! Well…this time anyway….. :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you for the reviews, especially from the Mary/Matthew shippers! :D I hope you enjoy this chapter! xx_

Chapter 2:

The news that Mr Pamuk was dead had come as a rather harsh blow to everyone. It was not expected and the man so young, nobody would ever have thought it.

Matthew found himself pondering the events of that weekend as he walked into the village. Mr Pamuk had seemed nice enough – perhaps a little full of himself – but nice enough, for a Turk. He had seemed in full health, at the height of his youth, ready to conquer the world and the women within it.

She'd certainly seemed impressed by him.

But then, was he really surprised? He was a handsome stranger from foreign lands and he could certainly talk the talk. She had practically flung herself at him.

But why did he care? He thought nothing of her; she was merely his cousin, a distant relative he was forced to dine with. He had no thoughts for her at all. And she certainly had no thoughts for him, except disdain.

It was this final thought that brought him to a standstill right outside the post office, lost in thought. He never heard the little bell tinkle as the door opened until he was propelled into by a young woman.

"Oh, I am sor-…Gwen!" he exclaimed as he realised the young woman was in fact, the maid who had been singing all those months ago.

He'd seen her around the house, of course, and always made a point of smiling kindly in her direction, even occasionally greeting her when nobody else was around. He liked her; he liked her simplicity, her sweet yet shy smile and her obvious embarrassment whenever anyone looked her way.

Gwen's eyes were firmly gazing at the floor and she was clutching her packages tightly to her chest, the tell-tale sign of embarrassment creeping up from beneath the collar of her coat and up her neck.

"Good day, sir," she stammered, her grip tightening on her package. As an afterthought she bobbed him an awkward curtsey and it was Matthew's turn to be embarrassed.

"None of that," he said softly, looking about to see if anyone was watching. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing!" Gwen said a little too quickly, she shook her head as if to emphasise her point and he couldn't help but notice how a few stray strands of silky red hair came loose beneath her hat.

Matthew smiled warmly at her and nodded towards her packages, "Are those things for that course you're taking? I hear you want to leave service?"

Gwen met his eyes for the first time and they widened in horror, "Who told you?"

"Mr Carson's telling anyone who'll listen," Matthew grinned, trying to put Gwen at ease. "Don't worry; I think it a fine ambition for you."

Gwen blinked at him incredulously, "You don't think I'm bein' a fool?"

"A fool?" Matthew cried. "Of course not! Why ever would I think that?"

Gwen's eyes lowered away from his and he noted the sad tone that filtered into her voice as she spoke, he truly felt sorry for her. She was clearly unsure of her own decisions and the reaction of people around her was starting to influence her choices.

"What anyone else says doesn't matter. If you want it and it's right for you, then you should…no, must do it!" Matthew explained gently. "I'd think you more a fool if you let other people's narrow minded views alter the future you want."

"But what if I fail? Everyone'll laugh and I'll 'ave given up a good position. Maybe I ought to stay in service, at least I know where I am wi' that." Gwen's eyes lowered further and she clutched her parcels as if her life depended on it. Matthew couldn't help but wryly think that her life did depend on them.

"You'll only fail if you believe you'll fail," Matthew answered. He should know, for long enough he believed he'd failed in life but recently, he was starting to see that failure only came from within. Believe in yourself and you can succeed. "What does your family say?"

"I daren't tell 'em. They'll think me mad and I'd 'ate to disappoint 'em," Gwen answered, her cheeks glowed softly with lingering awkwardness. To Gwen it was a failing of hers, to Matthew it was endearing. "But I don't think I'm mad!"

Matthew chuckled at her fiery conclusion and agreed, "I don't either! I know what it is to disappoint one's family. I've been doing it ever since I was a boy."

"What, by being heir to an Earl?" Gwen quipped, her eyes danced with brief mischief before dying in horror at what she'd just said. "I'm sorry! I never meant to be impertinent…please, forgive me!"

Matthew laughed heartily at this, he had thoroughly enjoyed her rather sharp joke and she had a point when she put it like that. "Don't be sorry! You're right really, but my mother never really approved of me being the heir, but then she never approved of me being a solicitor. She wanted me to be a doctor like my father, like his father, like her father, like my uncle – a solicitor was a disappointment. But it was what I wanted to do. I suppose people may think me a failure, I'm not exactly the likeliest of heirs, but I don't think I'm a failure and nor should you. Because you're not."

Matthew had never spoken like that before to anyone, let alone a woman he barely knew, a maid who worked in the house he would one day inherit. But that was effect she had on him. And he liked it a lot. He looked at the parcel in her hand as a way of distracting himself from gazing at her too intently.

"Can I see?" he asked, nodding in the direction of her arms.

Gwen shifted a little and gazed at the parcels in her arms. With a small amount of reluctance she opened up the first parcel and held out a few examples of her work that had been returned to her.

"They're not very good," she mumbled as he took the papers from her.

He studied them carefully before looking up with a smile, "Have you done these?" he asked.

"Yes," Gwen answered, thrown by his wide smile.

"These are really good. The spacing and the alignment is really, very good," Matthew said, flicking back and forth between the sheets. "I'm impressed."

Gwen blushed at the compliment, "Thank you, sir."

"Have you been applying for secretarial jobs?"

"One or two, but I've not heard anythin'," Gwen answered.

"Well, if you need any help, just ask. It's a shame we don't need a secretary where I work or I'd offer you a job right now!"

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," Gwen said, blushing further. "Lady Sybil has been helping me; she's offered to write me a reference."

Matthew chortled at this, "Now that doesn't surprise me! Don't let Sybil take control, once she gets fired up there's no stopping her! Make sure it's what you want and not what Sybil tells you to want."

Gwen smiled lightly, "I'm grateful to Lady Sybil."

"Of course you are, just remember to ask me if you need anything though." Matthew said with a knowing smile. He actually hoped she would come to him for help, helping Gwen wouldn't be a challenge at all, it would be a pleasure.

Matthew handed back the sheets of paper to Gwen, as she took hold of them, her hand grazed lightly against his, sending shivers along his arm. She must have felt something too for she looked up and met his gaze, her cheeks flushing quickly. Matthew's heart leapt a little as his eyes locked with hers and for a few, brief seconds; the world seemed to fall away. It only lasted a few seconds but it was enough and as the moment ended he realised he was staring; he quickly dropped his eyes, confused by the feelings he was experiencing.

"I…I best be gettin' back," Gwen mumbled, dropping her eyes and clutching at the papers.

"Yes, yes, I must be getting a move on too," Matthew stammered, "nice seeing you again, Gwen."

Gwen couldn't get any words out, she merely nodded, mumbled something incoherent, half curtseyed-half stumbled and dashed away from him.

He watched her rush away from him; he couldn't help but let his eyes follow and remain fixed upon her. There was something about her, something innocent and simple. She didn't look down her nose at him, didn't sneer as he spoke and genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. Perhaps it was her position in life that made her that way but at least she didn't talk in riddles, didn't set out to ridicule him, she just talked honestly.

And yet there was some spark with her.

She knew what she wanted from life and was determined to get it, no matter how hard it might be. He had to admire that in her, life for a girl like Gwen was hard enough, changing that life was almost impossible and yet, there she was, trying all the same. It was to be applauded, whereas others may moan and complain about the tedium and bad hand that life had dealt them, Gwen wasn't ready to give in, she was taking control. Even if it was in her own shy, insecure way.

He could almost see himself in her.

xXx

Gwen didn't realise she was trembling until the papers in her hands began to rustle noisily. She clutched them tighter and tried to stop the nervous shaking that threatened to overwhelm her. Her legs felt strange, wobbly almost, as if they didn't belong to her body and she began to worry she would be so overcome she would collapse in a heap.

Her Aunt Hilda used to suffer from swoons; Gwen's mother had always insisted such things didn't exist, that women who swooned were attention seekers with nothing better to do. But right now, Gwen felt a certain empathy with Aunt Hilda for she was sure she was experiencing the onset of a swoon right now.

The only difference here was that Aunt Hilda swooned almost every day over anything and nothing; Gwen was swooning over Mr Crawley and had never swooned in her life.

She could still feel his fingers brushing against hers, could still feel the shivers it sent through her body, could still see the way those eyes of his gazed at her with such intensity, she was sure he was gazing into her soul.

Was this really happening? Was she really developing an attraction to Mr Crawley? How had that happened? He was kind, he understood – but that was no reason to be attracted to him!

And of course, nothing could ever come of it. He wouldn't look at her twice, she was a maid and he was a solicitor who would one day be an Earl. She had nothing that would tempt him, and she didn't want to tempt him! She was being ridiculous! She shouldn't even be thinking like this.

Mr Crawley was just being polite, he didn't think of her in any way except a maid who sang inappropriately and was on a fool's errand to better herself. No, he wouldn't look at her twice.

Yet, as she turned back to look at him, she saw him watching her and her little heart leapt.

Maybe he would look at her twice.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you once again for the lovely reviews and encouragement! After this chapter, there is just one more to go which will take us up to the end of S1. As always, I hope you enjoy this one! xx_

**Chapter 3**

"_You see, Edith and I had this sort of bet…"_

The words kept replaying in his mind as he escaped the blasted flower show. He really was a fool indeed to be encouraged by her in such a way. It had been building so gradually, so perfectly that he'd allowed himself to…hope, dream even, that this could be the start of something real and special between them.

And then she'd shown herself for what she was. A heartless tease, only out for the best offer.

Matthew had had to take himself away from the flower show, the prizes and compliments and ridiculous small talk was more than he could bear. He was interested in the flower show, in what it represented for the village, but he had no part in it. Not like his mother, she'd enjoyed helping to prepare for it and was delighting in its glory, for that he was happy but he had nothing to do with it. Even Lord Grantham played a part, a valuable part, the people wanted him to be there, they wanted to see him, see his reactions, he was an honoured guest, his presence meant something.

But Matthew's did not.

He was the heir, yes, but he wasn't loved by the village, his presence wasn't exactly unwelcomed, but it didn't mean much, not really, he was just Lord Grantham's heir who couldn't be a gentleman because he worked as a solicitor. He was just another add-on to their weekly gossip schedule.

Even after all this time, Matthew was still trying to find his place.

He'd taken a seat at the back of the village hall, it wasn't exactly an attractive area but it was away from everyone else and at least here he could be alone to think.

His mind was filled with her, the way she'd talked at dinner, flirted even. He'd really thought they'd turned a corner, that perhaps they could be friends, maybe more. He'd noted how Lord Grantham had been delighted at their new found level of understanding; he'd seen the hope in his eyes. Maybe, maybe their prayers would be answered after all.

And for a brief moment, Matthew wanted their prayers to be answered, he'd seen a future with Mary, it would be the right thing and all would be as it should be. Mary would be his wife and the title and fortune would be hers…theirs. It was the right thing.

"_You see, Edith and I had this sort of bet…"_

Through the trees Matthew heard the sound of laughter and, ducking slightly, could see through into the clearing beyond. He recognised some of the staff from the Abbey, the flower show must have ended and they were making their way back to work. He watched as they walked together in a group, snippets of conversations floating in the breeze. One of the young men, Thomas, had picked some leaves off a nearby bush and was chasing some of the younger maids, trying to throw them over their heads, the young girls squealed with laughter, scattering about like daft chickens. As they moved about, he saw Gwen and smiled. She was now being teased by Thomas and another young man, they were trying to push some flowers into the collar of her jacket and she was laughing and wriggling, trying to get away from them. It was an innocent little scene, yet how Matthew envied them their fun.

He watched Gwen as she turned to talk to some of the girls, watched as she noted how one maid seemed out of sorts and went to her side, saw how she put her arm around the woman and said something to her. He couldn't stop the smile as he observed how Gwen seemed to offer comfort to the maid before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

As she moved away she caught sight of him, watching through the bushes, almost hidden to the world but not to her. She said something inaudible to the group and slowly made her way towards him. The group seemed oblivious to her departure and Matthew got to his feet as she approached.

"Hello," he said, smiling warmly.

She didn't meet his eyes, instead focussed her gaze on a point somewhere on his shoulder, a typical Gwen reaction. "Hello, sir," she said softly, that familiar blush appearing on her cheeks. "Why're you sat 'ere?"

Matthew sighed and gestured to the little bench, sitting himself back down. Gwen paused a moment before cautiously joining him, she perched on the edge of the bench, sitting bolt upright and clutching at her hands in her lap.

"I needed to get away," he answered simply, his mood darkening at the thoughts of earlier. He quickly pushed them away and nodded towards the group that were almost out of view, "That looked like fun."

Gwen frowned, unsure of what he was referring, noticing where his gaze was fixed she made a little noise of understanding, "Oh, well, it were just Thomas bein' daft. He aint usually like that, must be the wind."

Matthew chuckled, "I saw you with your arm around that maid, is she alright?"

"Oh, Anna? Oh, she'll be alright," Gwen answered simply, blushing a little further.

"Of course, I know you can't say much to me!" Matthew said, a soft hint of a tease to his tone. "What happens downstairs, stays downstairs."

Gwen smiled warmly at that, "Somethin' like that, sir."

"Do you tell them you talk to me?" he asked suddenly. "Your friends, I mean."

Gwen met his eyes for the first time, shock evident across her features. "No, sir! I don't tell 'em we talk….they wouldn't believe me anyway, but it don't seem right somehow."

Matthew studied her carefully, she seemed genuinely shocked he would even ask her that, but, didn't all women talk and gossip? He'd assumed Gwen would tell the other maids, not that they had anything to hide, they talked occasionally, there was nothing in it. He suddenly felt a fool for even asking, Gwen was not like other women, she was completely different.

"Ashamed of me are you?" he teased further.

"No, sir!" Gwen exclaimed. "You would be ashamed if people knew, you talking to a maid, a maid wi' fanciful ideas."

"I'm certainly not ashamed, Gwen," Matthew insisted gently. "So, why don't you tell them?"

"It's just….well, Anna'd say I were forgettin' me place, that I were riskin' things by even talkin' to yer. Lily'd think there were somethin' sinister 'bout it all, she'd tell everyone and make somethin' outta nothin'. Daisy'd think it were wonderful, she'd talk of nothin' else. They wouldn't understand why I talk to yer."

"Why do you talk to me, Gwen?"

The blush deepened. "Because you listen to what I 'ave to say."

Matthew smiled softly. It had not occurred to him before today that these little meetings with Gwen actually meant something to the young girl. He'd assumed that she just humoured him like everyone else did, that she talked with him due to some obscure feeling of obligation, it never crossed his mind she did it because she wanted to. He had yet to meet a woman in his social standing who talked and listened to him purely because she wanted to, because she found him interesting, most women of his acquaintance were only out for one thing: his position.

But not Gwen.

She, who would gain the most from chasing him, flirting with him, snaring him, showed no desire to do anything of the sort. Where other young women would flatter him, fawn at his sleeve and give him a doe-eyed look, Gwen merely talked as though he was a friend. It was uniquely interesting.

"How's the job prospects looking?" he asked, trying to move away from any thoughts that romantically involved Gwen.

Gwen looked at the floor, the small flush of embarrassment lingering about the collar of her coat. "Not good."

"Oh?"

"See, the thing is….I'm startin' to wonder if I really am a fool," Gwen said, her tone suddenly strong with a hint of annoyance. "I think they're all laughin' at me."

"Who?"

"The other staff….," Gwen sighed.

"Why would they laugh at you?"

"There were me, wi' me great big ideas, full of me own importance about how I were goin' ter leave service and be a secretary….and here I still am…..still in service and no 'ope of a job," Gwen explained with a hint of sadness. "That were ages ago, they're probably laughin' right now about me."

"I doubt that very much. These things take time, Gwen. What's important is you know what you want and you are trying to get it. It won't happen overnight but it will happen and it will work out for the best, you'll see."

Gwen looked up and met his gaze briefly and he smiled at her, resting one hand quickly upon her arm in way of comfort. She nodded slightly before looking away again.

"I believe in you."

Gwen nodded and looked up again, smiling at his words and Matthew felt his heart soar a little at that simplest of actions.

"And what about you, sir?" Gwen asked, looking away once more. "How are things wi' you?"

Matthew sighed loudly and followed Gwen's gaze, focussing upon a point in the distance as his own problems began to filter back.

"Oh, you know…same old, same old."

"Still a Lord-in-training?" Gwen flashed him a teasing smile and Matthew laughed. These moments with Gwen were rare, but every now and again, she seemed to gain a surge of confidence and would tease him. If anyone heard they'd say she was impertinent but Matthew enjoyed it, there was nothing sinister in it, no hint of ridicule…it was just…friendship.

"Yes, still that!" he chuckled. The smile slowly fell from his face as he thought of how complicated his life had started to become. There were so many things to think about, so many threads to his life that at times seemed to be in order and others seemed to be slowly unravelling about his feet.

"If yer don't mind me sayin', sir, you seem a little out of sorts today. Is everythin' alright?"

Matthew dropped his head and gave a rather weary sigh, "I suppose I'm a little disillusioned with a few things."

"Oh?"

"I don't know….it just seems that as soon as one thing starts to go right, everything else starts going wrong. I'm starting to wonder what the point of it all is."

"What d'yer mean?"

"I don't know….nothing, I'm just being daft."

"Yer not bein' daft….life is like that sometimes. But," she paused and offered him a smile, "a friend of mine, a very wise friend, once told me that things don't always happen overnight, but they will happen, and happen for the best. I believe in you."

Matthew grinned back. "Using my own words against me? Sneaky!"

"Just tryin' to 'elp, sir."

"You know, I envy you, Gwen,"

"Me, sir? Why ever would you envy me?"

"You can chase your dreams, be who you really are without worrying what the world will think. You can marry who you want…you must have hundreds of suitors chasing you; I bet Mrs Hughes has to guard that back door like a fort!"

"I don't have any suitors," Gwen said with a shake of her head.

"Really? No young man hidden away who sends you love notes and flowers?"

"No, sir!"

"But….you can choose to marry for love rather than marrying because it's the right thing to do. You are free to love any man you want."

"But not every man is free to love someone like me. Some men are too good for the likes of me."

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Gwen looked quickly away.

"I'd better go, sir, they'll be wondering where I am,"

xXx

"Gwen! There you are! I've been lookin' all over for yer," Anna exclaimed as they met on the road, "Mrs Hughes is going mad, she was goin' to send Daisy to find yer but we all know Daisy's sense of direction, she'd be in Ripon by now!"

"Oh, sorry…"

"Where've yer been?" Anna demanded, hands on hips.

"Oh, I remembered I'd forgot me gloves, I went back for 'em," Gwen said, embarrassed at lying to Anna.

Anna looked at Gwen's empty hands and frowned, "Well, where are they?"

"I remembered I didn't bring 'em wi' me," Gwen answered, blushing slightly at the lie.

Anna raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment on this. Instead she said, "Well, come on, let's get back before Mrs Hughes completely loses her temper."

xXx

Gwen's words lingered in his mind; he'd never considered it that way before. Being free it love is all well and good, as long as the recipient of that love is free to return the grace.

For the briefest, maddest moment, the idea crossed his mind that marrying someone like Gwen, well, Gwen herself, wouldn't be a bad thing at all. They got on well together, she was pretty and could hold a sensible conversation – she could be an ideal wife. What did it matter if she had no money or came from a tenant farming background? Why should that matter a jot?

This thought almost made Matthew laugh out loud. He could just imagine the scene, announcing to everyone he was marrying Gwen. He could see Lord Grantham, trying desperately to keep a polite countenance, his fingers gripping his brandy glass so tight the skin would be white. He would probably say something like, "We shall talk about this later…don't want to bore the ladies now…"

Then there would be his mother cheering on at the sidelines, out of them all, she'd probably champion the match. He could see Cousin Cora, sitting bolt upright on the little sofa, trying hard to smile, the smile slowly disintegrating in a grimace as she realised a maid would take her place as Countess.

Cousin Violet would perhaps provide the most amusement, she'd look at them both over those little glasses of hers, frown deeply and make comments about the age of Gwen's family, ask if they had money and then comment that Gwen looked very much like one of the maids….it would probably kill her outright. He could hear her now, "I did not run this house for thirty years to see it polluted and shamed by an upstart little maid…."

Lady Sybil would perhaps take the news as encouragement that things were changing in the world, she'd pipe up that this was a good thing, it was progressive, for why shouldn't servants and masters be as one? Lady Edith would stand in cold bitterness, hands clasped before her, an expression of hurt mixed with anger upon her young features. He had to wonder, where had Edith's bitterness originated? She was bitter, no doubt of that, but Matthew was yet to work out why.

The one reaction he couldn't gauge was Mary's. How would she take the news? Would she smile and toss a throw away comment at him such as, "Oh, it's of no consequence to me, I have bigger fish to fry…" or would she look hurt, perhaps flee the room in tears? Which response did he actually want? That was the real question.

And why was he even thinking this? Had he really got any intention of marrying Gwen? Of course not! Even he could see that it wouldn't work, it wasn't right, not the natural order of things. It was merely his mind sorting through his many mixed thoughts.

Gwen was wonderful; she'd make someone a great wife, but not him. It was sad to think about really, she should be exactly the sort of woman he should choose; she was everything he could wish for….so, why couldn't he stop thinking about Mary?


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I admit I found this final chapter really hard to write, hence the length of time it's taken for me to update! I hope you enjoy it! Thank you as always for the reviews and alerts! xxx_

**Chapter 4:**

The announcement of war affected everyone. The ripples of shock spread out across the perfectly manicured lawns of Downton Abbey like ripples of water across a pond. No-one was left untouched.

For Matthew, it was just another blow to his already fragile life. Things just never seemed to go right for him for long; he always seemed to be pulling himself through another awkward chapter of his life.

Life had changed so rapidly in the last few months, he couldn't keep up. One minute he was the heir, destined to marry Lady Mary, the next his chance of being Lord Grantham seemed in jeopardy and Mary was stalling on answering his proposal. Now, things had shifted once more, he was still the heir and things with Mary had never been direr. It was more than he could take.

His decision had been made long before war was announced, he was going to leave Downton, return to the world he knew – Manchester. It was the only way. Leave the whole damn lot of them to get on with things, he could be the silent heir and stay well out of the politics and mind games of living anywhere near Lady Mary and her family.

War…now that changed everything again. Was Manchester far enough away? Why settle for the same country when you could go further afield and try to forget her entirely? War….where men made their name. It actually appealed to Matthew.

Sitting alone on the bench beneath a tree, he worked through his options, stay and feel the shame of Mary's refusal or go to war and find glory amid the mud. The answer was actually rather simple.

He was disturbed from his reverie by the sound of rapidly approaching feet and looking up saw an extremely happy Gwen bounding towards him, skirts tussling about her ankles as she ran. She came to a halt before him, panting hard, her cheeks pink with happiness.

"Have yer heard?" she asked breathlessly, any usual formality thrown entirely to the wind by whatever her news was.

He sat up a little straighter and despite himself, offered her a bemused smile, "Heard what? The war?"

"No! Not the war….," Gwen gasped and then sobered a little at the mention of that dreadful word. "I mean, that's awful, but I were meaning have yer heard about me job?"

"What job?"

Gwen's face erupted into an excited smile once more, "I've got a job! I did it! Finally, I got a job!"

Matthew got to his feet and not caring who saw, wrapped his arms around Gwen for a brief hug, "Congratulations! Where? How?"

"Wi' Mr Bromidge, I'm goin' t' be 'is secretary! He interviewed me the other day, he just rang not long ago and I got it!"

Matthew sat back down, grinning from ear to ear at Gwen's happiness. "I couldn't be happier for you, Gwen. You deserve it."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, her cheeks glowing happily.

"It's about time something went right." Matthew glanced down at the ground briefly before fixing his gaze on a point in the distance. His mind slowly began to wander, wander through darkened thoughts of Mary and his current life.

"Are you alright, sir?" Gwen's voice cut through his thoughts, bringing Matthew back to the present, her happiness faltering on her flushed face.

He studied Gwen carefully, her face still glowed with happiness one finds when things start to go your way, though her expression showed concern, concern for him. It was actually a cheering thought, that someone truly cared. "Just thinking about the future," he answered, offering her a weak smile. It didn't seem right to spoil her happy mood.

"I'm sure you'll be 'appy together."

"What do you mean?" Matthew frowned lightly, wondering what she was referring to.

"When you and Lady Mary marry," Gwen explained. He couldn't miss the awkward blush that spread up Gwen's neck and into her cheeks.

"We're not getting married," he replied, also flushing at the direction the conversation was taking.

"But…" Gwen's frown was genuine.

"Lady Mary prefers to keep her options open," Matthew explained, his tone hinting at bitterness.

"Well…I'm sorry to 'ear that….I suppose it aint proper o' me to say it, but…well, I'll be leavin' soon, so I'll say it anyway. She's a fool for turnin' you down," Gwen said, indignant on his behalf.

"Perhaps I'm the fool for asking her in the first place!" Matthew suggested wryly.

"No, sir! You only did what were right and proper. She'd have been lucky to 'ave you." Her tone becoming more and more indignant.

"Shame she didn't think so." There was an awkward silence following that statement, many words lingering between them, yet remaining unspoken.

"I really shouldn't say this….and don't think I'm not sorry about that poor baby…but, I am happy it means you're still the heir. It wouldn't feel right, you not bein' the heir, not now anyway." She spoke the words carefully, knowing that to the wrong ears, her words would be scandalous.

"Really?" Matthew raised an eyebrow at Gwen, if it had been anyone else he would assume they were either joking or just trying to be polite, but Gwen was different. She only ever spoke the truth she felt to him.

"O' course."

"Well, it's irrelevant now," Matthew sighed, turning his attention back to a distant point. It began to dawn on him that this may be one of the last few times he gazed on this view. As much as he hated to admit it, he would miss the house he'd slowly grown to love. He'd even started to believe it would one day be his, even looked forward to sharing it, sharing it with Mary.

"Why d'yer say that?" Again Gwen disturbed him from his thoughts, her happy expression all but gone now and replaced with deep concern.

"I'll be going back to Manchester, and then I'll probably sign up for war." He didn't dare look at her as he spoke, of everyone, he actually feared her reaction. She didn't disappoint.

"What? No! Oh, sir, no! You can't, why d' yer want to leave?" She took a step closer and for the first time, he truly looked up at her, taken aback by the anguish in her tone, the anguish that was now flickering across her face.

"I can't stay…you must see that…I can't stay." He was almost pleading with her, pleading for her to understand.

"Because o' Lady Mary? What about his Lordship? What about Downton? What about the staff? Your mum? Me?"

Matthew looked up at that and Gwen flushed furiously, but she didn't back down. She lifted her chin in defiance and stared at him, tears glistening in her eyes.

"You can't sign up for war, you just can't!" she cried, her anguish deepening.

"But, I can't stay here," he said, clenching his fists tightly against the whirl of emotions Gwen's distress was eliciting.

"Why? Why can't you stay?" she practically begged.

"Because….because my whole life is destroyed!"

"No, no it isn't! Why say that? Lady Mary is a fool; she'll see that eventually and if she doesn't….well, more fool her! Don't…just don't do somethin' daft, like signin' up to get yerself killed."

"At least I'll have done something right for once." It was a poor attempt at humour, but even he heard how poor it actually was.

"Stop talkin' like that!" Gwen cried, horrified by such talk. The thought of anyone she knew going to war terrified her, the thought of them not coming home…

"Well it's true! I'm nothing here, I'm not the son Lord Grantham wants, I'm not the husband Mary wants…..I'm not even the heir that everyone wants! I'm nothing….at least fighting in this war…at least then I'm actually fighting a worthy cause."

"No! What's worthwhile about bein' senselessly blown up? Who will benefit from that? And, who's to say this war'll last long? Mr Branson says it'll be over by Christmas, why sign up so soon?" Gwen tried to reason.

"Patriotism?" Matthew suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't joke 'bout things like this!" Gwen scolded angrily.

"Sorry," Matthew replied sincerely. The last thing he wanted was for Gwen to be upset by his decisions, of everyone, he'd hate to see her upset.

"Please…..please, promise me something….," Gwen pleaded, stepping closer again.

"I'll try….," Matthew responded, worried by what she was about to request from him. He hoped it wasn't something he could never agree to, hoped she wouldn't want him to make an impossible promise.

"Promise me you won't sign up….not yet anyway," Gwen's voice wobbled a little and she bit her lip to stop it from quivering.

"Gwen…" Matthew reached out and lightly touched her arm, moved by her emotional plea.

"Please? Not yet…give it time…..please don't sign up," she begged him again.

"I-"

"Please?"

"I-"

"Please?" her voice shook with the force of her feelings and she stared at him, willing him to promise.

"Alright…if it will make you happy. But only for you!" Matthew touched her arm again and smiled, hoping to reassure the girl.

"Thank you." Gwen met his gaze and nodded, expressing her gratitude that he would promise her that.

"You've always been a good friend, Gwen, I wish there was some way I could thank you." Matthew released her arm and settled back against the bench.

"I could say the same 'bout you. You always believed in me," Gwen said, offering him a warm smile.

"Because I knew you could do it. You will make a fine secretary," Matthew replied, grinning back with warmth and affection at the only true friend he'd ever had at Downton.

"And you will make a fine lord," Gwen said simply, meeting his eyes to prove her sincerity.

"I'm not sur-" Matthew began but was interrupted by quickly approaching feet.

"Gwen! There you a-… Oh, beggin' yer pardon, sir." Branson came to an abrupt halt and stood up straight in an act of respect for Matthew.

"No, not at all, thank you, Gwen, I've got everything I need now," Matthew said, meeting Gwen's eyes one last time, silently telling her everything would be alright and that she should go now.

"Thank you, sir," Gwen replied, her words laced with many different meanings, meanings that Matthew understood and he gave an indiscernible nod.

Gwen curtseyed and stepped back, offering him one last look before she turned to join Branson. Branson was smiling and he took hold of Gwen's hand the moment they were a respectable distance from Matthew.

"Lady Sybil's arranging a little party tonight, in the garage, to celebrate your new job!"

"But…what 'bout the war?"

"Shove the war! It's exactly why we should celebrate! No war is going to spoil your good news!"

Matthew watched them disappearing back across the lawn and couldn't help but smile, at least for one person, life was going right and he was truly happy for Gwen, after waiting for so long, she was finally getting her new beginning. Despite promising Gwen differently, Matthew knew it was time he made a fresh start, whether that fresh start was in Manchester or the battle fields of war remained to be seen. But, of one thing he was certain; it was time he took control of his own life.


End file.
